Berlinale | Interview  "Who Killed Alex Odeh?" Challenges Double Standards in U.S. Policy

An old family photo. The father, in a black tuxedo, smiles as he holds his little girl in his arms. The mother, wearing a long burgundy dress adorned with white flowers on the right side of her chest, also smiles.
Alex Odeh with his wife and daughter ©Courtesy of the Odeh Family

In 1985, Palestinian-American poet and activist Alexander Odeh was killed by a bomb in his office. To this day, no one has been convicted over the bombing. William Lafi Youmans and Jason Osder’s documentary “Who Killed Alex Odeh?” sets out to re-examine his case. The film successfully premiered in the United States at the Sundance Film Festival in January, and is set forits international premiere as part of the Berlinale Special Presentation. I met the directors to discuss their film and its relevance at this time.

When and how did journey of “Who Killed Alex Odeh?” begin?

William Lafi Youmans: I grew up in the Arab American community in Dearborn, Michigan. The American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee (ADC), which Alex Odeh belonged to, was active during my childhood. They would go door-to-door recruiting members, and I joined. When Odeh was assassinated, it had a deep impact on the community, as it seemed like a warning of what could happen to anyone who dared to speak openly about the Palestinian cause. That stayed with me as I grew up, until one day I saw Jason’s film “Let the Fire Burn.” It immediately reminded me of Odeh’s story, because of the similarities between the two events, both of which happened in the same year, 1985. During the discussion, an audience member asked Jason about his next film. He replied that he was looking for a new project, and asked if anyone had any suggestions. All I had to do was to go to him and pitch the idea. He told me he wouldn’t make the film unless I co-directed it with him.

Jason Osder: I found commonalties between the story and my film. Both were incidents of local violence under the watchful eyes of the police. “Let the Fire Burn” was about the bombing of a separatist group’s headquarters in Philadelphia. Because I grew up there, the story was part of my childhood. But I noticed that other people, even Americans, knew nothing about it—just as it’s difficult to know about Alex Odeh unless you’re Arab American or part of the activist community. William and I were both Americans, working at the same university, but we didn’t share the same childhood stories told around the dinner table. We realized that that was the perfect starting point for the film: to try and bridge the gap between our upbringings. And that’s how the journey began, over 10 years ago.

Jason was a director from the start, but was directing part of William’s plans before the film?

W.L.Y.: Absolutely not. Actually, I wanted to give him the idea of making the film while I continued my career as an assistant professor, a new role in which you advance by publishing studies and books. I’m currently working on a book about the media and political context around African Americans in the 1980s, so you could say the film contributed in some way to my academic work. Jason was smart enough to realize that I had a stronger connection to the Arab community that Alex Odeh lived in, so we embarked on the film project as a partnership, with him directing and me as the expert on the subject matter. It was an excellent partnership; I learned a lot from Jason and from working with the director of cinematography and the editors. I think I’ll make another film in the future.

J.O.: It wasn’t just an ethical imperative to work with someone from the Arab community, but also a practical necessity. There’s a film I always remember called “Two Towns of Jasper,” about a racially motivated murder, which was filmed with two complete crews: a Black crew filming in Black neighbourhoods, and a White crew in White neighbourhoods, because it was the only way to gain people’s trust and film with them in a safe environment. If you went to an event related to the Palestinian cause anywhere in the U.S. and mentioned William’s name, everyone knew him, and that benefited the film greatly. At the same time, I had to draw on my Jewish roots during some of the filming, to film in Israel or to reach a member of the Jewish Defense League. We all know that there are places in Israel, and even some interviews in the U.S., that would be difficult for William to access safely, so it was good that we had both sides when we were filming.

That leads us to the role played by the Israeli journalist David Sheen, who took part in producing the film as an investigator and interviewer. When did he join you?

J.A.: Around 2019. We had been working for a long time without feeling that we had found the right driving force for the film. We were good at doing in-depth research through documents and archival videos, but we didn’t want to be the investigators on camera, and perhaps we weren’t even able to. Journalist Robert Friedman had done some work on the case, but he passed away. We contacted his widow, journalist Christine Dugas, who gave us her late husband’s papers and then connected us with David Sheen, who had also done some work on Alex Odeh’s case. We discussed the progress we had each made, and found that David Sheen had the right psychological qualities for the task. We were captivated by his work, and he gradually became the driving force behind the project.

But did you already have the idea of continuing the investigation and going to Israel to search for the suspects?

J.A.: Yes, the idea was in our minds. Initially, we thought we would rely solely on the archives, like my previous film. But we quickly realized that these people were not only alive, but also active and involved in Israeli political life.

W.Y.: We wanted to continue the investigation, but we didn’t know how. We were still trying to gain the trust of the Odeh family. By 2019, we hadn’t yet got the best we could get from them. There had been a change in leadership at the ADC, and they were constantly talking about a campaign to demand justice for the murderers. We intended to follow that campaign, but it didn’t work out as we had hoped. Our initial focus was on an Arab-American activist, but he decided to leave the organization, so he was out of the picture for us. During the coronavirus pandemic, we also did extensive archival research, which led us to recordings from Los Angeles and a six-minute video of Alex Odeh. We were pursuing several avenues, and Sheen added an investigative dimension to them.

One of the central themes of the film is the contradiction in how the U.S. government deals with terrorist incidents based on the identities of the perpetrator and the victim. How do you see this?

W.Y.: For me, there are clear double standards in U.S. foreign policy, which stems from the total partnership between the U.S. and Israeli governments. This shields the Israeli side from being labelled as terrorist when it commits acts of terrorism, and it makes the U.S. tolerate extremist actions by Israel that it wouldn’t tolerate from any other government. Therefore, I made this film primarily as an American citizen, in defence of the founding values of the U.S.: the rule of law, fair trials, democracy, and everything we see as our values. The assassination of Odeh was a disturbing incident for the Arab-American community because it highlighted the low value placed on citizens of Arab descent, as if their citizenship were incomplete and didn’t enjoy the same legal protections. I maintain that foreign policy is the root cause of all this: it’s the reason why people are deported for taking part in demonstrations, and why university students are silenced if they speak out about genocide. That’s not what the Constitution and the First Amendment were designed for. There’s a major crisis in American institutions caused by the bias in foreign policy.

J.A.: There’s a book about the hijacking of the Achille Lauro cruise ship, by Michael Bohn, who was a government official during the Reagan administration and was in the decision-making room at the time of the Achille Lauro case. The book’s premise is that the U.S. response to terrorist attacks isn’t related to the scale of the incident or to achieving justice, but rather to the political ramifications—whether the attack was politically motivated or not. We can clearly connect the two things.

Another point relates to the activity of the Kahane movement in the U.S. and Israel. Certainly, during the 1970s and 80s, there were extremist Israelis who felt they had to, and I quote, “expel and kill everyone and rule the entire country.” But back then, they had to keep such opinions to themselves because expressing such ideas was forbidden in Israeli politics. Today, such ideas are commonplace, and no one finds them strange. I see a powerful lesson here, one that is very relevant to the current situation in Israel, and unfortunately, even in the U.S.

How was the film’s trajectory affected by the events of October 7th and the subsequent Israeli attack on Gaza?

W.Y.: Ironically, October 6th was the day we showed the first complete version of the film to Alex Odeh’s family. We thought we had finished the film, and it was poignant to show it to them so close to the anniversary of his assassination. Their reaction was supportive, despite the film being difficult for them to watch. We started thinking about screening the film at festivals, some of which we had already submitted it to, but the following morning, we saw the October 7th attacks and knew what the consequences would be. We had to redo the editing. We filmed some footage of the relief efforts, but we found them heavy, and they detracted from the film’s main narrative. We decided then that we wouldn’t provide historical context, even though some people might expect it. For example, Alex Odeh was displaced during the 1967 (Six Day) war, but we don’t explain what that war was about. We simply state the facts and leave it at that, because when we tried to explain, we would stray from the story. We took the difficult decision to leave gaps and encourage the audience to connect the dots and make up the complete picture.

J.A.: I firmly believe that a good film is one that defines its message and delivers it effectively; and that any addition beyond that weakens the film’s coherence. Regarding the genocide in Gaza, if we had touched on it without doing it justice, it would have meant something was wrong. But we did include some scenes that express our perspective. For example, when we talk about Itamar Ben-Gvir and see him handing out firearms, we see him arming the settlers. We don’t say what they will do with these weapons, but you can imagine. We trust the audience’s awareness and ability to interpret.

I think that was the right decision, because the audience already has enough information, and doesn’t need every event to be put in its historical context.

W.Y.: When we screened the film at Sundance and discussed it with the audience, I asked Jason: Has our film changed a lot, or has the world changed? What we saw was that the American public has become more receptive, and is rethinking its previous assumptions because of all that has happened over the last three years.